


it's been a while since we went wild and that's all fine

by exhaustedsinner



Series: young liars [3]
Category: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon - All Media Types, Pocket Monsters: Sword & Shield | Pokemon Sword & Shield Versions
Genre: First Time Bottoming, M/M, Sex Party, mild and vaguely dubcon drug use
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-01
Updated: 2020-09-01
Packaged: 2021-03-06 19:40:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,403
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26224333
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/exhaustedsinner/pseuds/exhaustedsinner
Summary: They've always had Leon to break the ice between them, but now Piers is dragging Raihan off alone to god knows where.Somehow Raihan isn't complaining.
Relationships: Kibana | Raihan/Nezu | Piers, Piers/Others, Raihan/Others
Series: young liars [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1847461
Comments: 3
Kudos: 43





	it's been a while since we went wild and that's all fine

“So. A party.” Raihan watched the streets go by outside his window, the Galarian night silently streaking by.

“Mmm. You like parties, yeah.” It’s not really a question. Piers has seen Raihan’s Instagram, maybe even his OnlyFans. He’s well aware that Raihan likes parties.

“And Leon isn’t coming because…”

“Dear Lee had some things to do tonight. He does come with me to these shindigs sometimes, but tonight he thought you might like it.” A smile tugs at the corner of Piers’ narrow mouth, and Raihan feels there’s something he’s missing 

He shifts in his seat, his tight pants that make his ass look just perfect aren’t necessarily the best for sitting in a passenger seat for an hour. He doesn’t know where Piers is taking him, but he waxed his junk for this so it better be good. Raihan doesn’t know if he’s finding someone there or he’ll just hook up with Piers after, but he’s getting that itchy feeling under his skin where he just wants to get laid by someone, soon. 

After that first surprise threesome with Piers and Leon, Raihan had hooked up with the two of them a few times. He still hadn’t been with Piers on his own until now, and wasn’t quite sure why. Raihan was used to calling the shots - in the stadium, in his social life, in the bedroom. 

Piers was...something else, though. Tiny thing that he was, he kept knocking Raihan off balance.

“We’re here.” Piers’ low voice startles Raihan from his thoughts. He looks up to see a hotel, something far on the east side of the area, somewhere between Spikemuth and Circhester. It’s not fancy looking, not seedy, just someplace for your eyes to move past.

Piers parks his car on the street, and Raihan follows him inside. Not bothering to stop at the front desk, Piers pulls out a keycard when they get in the elevator and pushes it into a slot once inside, hitting the button for the penthouse. Bored, Raihan slouches against the back of the elevator, using the time to pull his Rotom out and snap a few pictures with the reflective elevator walls showing all his best angles.

“You’re not going to be able to have that with you,” Piers says as the elevator slows to a stop, glancing just once at the phone before he gets out. 

Raihan frowns. No one takes his phone from him. “Beg fucking pardon?” he asks. 

The hallway they’re in is strangely dark, and it startles Raihan when Piers whips around to push him up against a wall. There’s surprising strength in those thin fingers. “You’re my guest here and I’d really rather not lose any standin’ because of you. If you don’t want to play, no harm no foul, but you’re going to leave quietly, yeah? Don’t fuck this up for me.”

Raihan blinks. Piers’ eyes aren’t angry, but don’t seem to have any give in them. He spends a few moments looking up at Raihan, eerily like he can see into him, somehow, before letting him go and walking down the hallway.

He knocks on a seemingly random door, and Raihan catches up just as it opens. There’s a young man there, with wild dark hair and bright blue eyes who looks vaguely familiar. “Piers,” he purrs out, and leans down to give him a lingering kiss. He looks up, lips still on Piers’ as he meets Raihan’s eyes. “A new face? Interesting.” He steps back and Raihan can see what he is - or rather what he is not - wearing. Leather pants cut so low that Raihan had to applaud his shaving technique and a mesh shirt that’s more hole than anything else, showing off the glint of nipple piercings. 

Black wristbands go around their wrists and the man gestures for them to come in. It’s a long, dark hallway, with a few rooms to either side before a larger, darker space at the end. 

There are...sounds.

Raihan follows Piers into the first room off the hallway, where there are dozens of clear plastic boxes on shelves with clothing inside. Piers grabs two empty ones, hands one to Raihan.

“Piers,” Raihan says carefully. “Did you bring me to an orgy?”

Piers shrugs as he tugs off his shirt, narrow shoulderblades shifting under pale skin. “If you like. We generally call it a sex club.”

“And at the front, that was…”

“Grimsley. From -”

“Unova. Shit, I think I’ve beaten him before.” Raihan blinks. “Who all comes to this thing?”

Piers turns. He’s down to a rather tiny pair of black underwear, his spiked boots, and a whole lot of hair. “Gym leaders. Trainers. People who understand the...anxieties of the battlefield life and need to get some stress out.” Piers examines a chipped nail as Raihan strips down to his own underwear - a pure white that glows against his skin and puts everything in the right place. Hey, he’d been planning on getting with Piers tonight, thank god he’d prepared. He tucks his headband in the box before shoving it on the shelf, running a hand through his loose locs.

Raihan follows Piers down the hallway, to the sounds of moans and rhythmic slapping. “Tonight is men only,” Piers says over his shoulder. “Although it changes, depending on the day.”

They enter the larger space, Raihan letting his eyes adjust. He sees pairs and trios and more, tucked into corners and spread out on couches and right in the middle of the floor, surrounded by onlookers.

“You can fuck or get fucked or just watch, whatever you want,” Piers says, sounding almost bored. “No means no, move on if it’s not workin’ out. Don’t make me look bad.”

Raihan can feel himself starting to harden, from the sheer overwhelming smell of sex and the noises rising and falling around him. He follows Piers over to a couch where they sit close together, Raihan’s fingers playing absently through Piers’ hair. “So why haven’t you brought me here before?” he asks, finally.

“Because you broadcast everything that happens in your life and some of us don’t like having our business all over the internet,” comes a gruff voice from next to him. Raihan looks up, raising his eyebrows to see a short, grumpy man with grey hair, wearing nothing but a series of leather straps.

“Christ, Nanu. You’re a cop.”

“And I’d like to keep it that way.” Frowning red eyes look Raihan and his lack of clothing over. “You better not have that phone of yours shoved up your ass.”

Raihan rolls his eyes. “Give it a rest, old man. It’s put away with my clothes.” 

“Good. Want a blow job?”

The whip around in subject has Raihan blinking for just a moment, before he gives a lazy smile that takes in Nanu’s wide mouth and frankly gorgeous cheekbones before nodding easily. Nanu settles himself gracefully between Raihan’s legs, and reaches up to pull down Raihan’s underwear with calloused fingers that make Raihan bite his lip as they scratch over his hips. 

The benefit of age is experience, and Raihan has perhaps never had a blowjob more precisely engineered to take him apart before this. His head falls back and he stares at the ceiling, sure that if he looks down at Nanu working him over he’s going to lose it in seconds. His mouth is hot and wet with absolutely perfect pressure and apparently no gag reflex.

Lips brush at Raihan’s ear as Piers whispers, “See, I knew you’d have a good time.”

Raihan looks dazedly over, and Piers is smiling that knowing little half smile at him, as Grimsley - having been relieved of door duty apparently - settles himself down next to Piers and runs a hand across his chest. 

Even as he’s getting his dick sucked expertly by another man, something tugs low in Raihan’s chest to see Grimsley turn Piers’ face towards him with an easy hand and kiss him like he does so every day. Raihan and Piers aren’t - a thing. They’ve slept together four times now, and always with Leon between them. He has no right to feel anything.

Instead, Raihan reaches down, fells where his cock is inside Nanu’s cheek. It’s getting harder and harder not to come, so Raihan decides to fuck it and let go. He gives a courtesy tug at Nanu’s hair, only to have his hand slapped away. That same hand squeezes his balls in just the right way and Raihan is coming down Nanu’s throat with a moan. 

When he comes back to himself, Nanu is standing and wiping his mouth. Raihan can see him, hard and almost disproportionately large in his harness. He reaches out a hand, brushes it over Nanu’s hip. “Let me return the favor?”

Nanu shakes his head, though. “I don’t have too many rounds in me at this age, kid.” He leans down, slides lips that taste like Raihan and salt over Raihan’s own mouth. “Thanks, though.”

Raihan sits back, disentangling his underwear and setting it on the couch beside him. He runs a hand over his locs, surprised at how sweaty he is from just one orgasm. It’s warm in here, like a sauna of sex. There’s a tap at his shoulder. Piers.

Grimsley is off to the side, back arched as he stretches himself out. Piers leans over, lips brushing Raihan’s cheek. “You having a good time?”

Raihan nods. “Yeah. Thanks for this.”

Piers smiles, leans forward to kiss Raihan. It’s wet, his tongue slipping easily inside Raihan’s mouth. When he pulls back there’s a trace of bitterness, and when Raihan touches his tongue to the roof of his mouth he can feel the last bits of a pill dissolving away. He’s no stranger to taking a little something now and then, but he usually likes to know what he’s taking. “Piers!”

Smiling lazily, Piers gets up, pumping his cock a few times as Grimsley gets on his knees on the couch. “Just a little something to help you get through the night.”

Raihan can feel his cheeks heating, feel his cock getting hard again. He sighs. He’s no stranger to taking a bit of enhancement when he knows there’s a long night ahead, might have done it himself if he’d known what was coming. Rolling his eyes as Piers starts to fuck Grimsley, he gets up.

Looking for something to get the taste out of his mouth, Raihan finds a table with bottles of water. Opening one and starting to drink, he chokes on it as there’s a thump to his back. 

“Raihan! How are you, boy!”

Swallowing weakly, Raihan attempts to smile. “Hello, Drake.”

Drake doesn’t wear a shirt under the best of circumstances. Raihan really didn’t need to know that under those weird pirate pants of his apparently went...a lace jockstrap? Christ. He tries to avoid the other Dragon trainer under the best of circumstances, let alone when sporting a drug-enhanced erection.

Unfortunately Drake continues to talk. And talk. And...

Talk.

Fortunately, there’s a touch at his elbow. “I’m so sorry, Drake, let me just steal him away from you…” Raihan waves a weak goodbye as he’s pulled away. He finally gets a look at the other man and sees - a mask. Purple hair, a rather fit body, and a black mask that doesn’t let Raihan see his eyes.

“Thank you for that,” Raihan says with feeling. “Just because we’re both Dragon trainers and he showed me one move ten years ago, he just loves to talk about the good old days.”

The other man is laughing quietly, but not meanly. “I could tell.” He leans close, taps at the corner of his mask. “I’m psychic.”

Oh. Psychics. Loons, the lot of them, but Raihan’s polite and even with the mask the guy is hot, so he leans a bit closer and - “Can I express my appreciation?”

A nod, and Raihan’s pulling the other man down onto a thankfully empty couch where they stretch out. Raihan runs his hand up toned thighs and a firm ass, gripping it nice and tightly for a moment. “Okay, masked man, what can I call you?” he murmurs.

“Well, you can -” the man cuts himself off with a groan as Raihan wraps a hand around his dick, gives it a long, slow pump. “Will,” he gasps out. “I’m Will.”

“Give it a lick, Will,” Raihan says, holding his hand up in front of the other man’s face. Will licks his hand, perhaps spending a little more time than needed. Raihan spits in his hand and wraps it around both their dicks, the slide just the right amount of friction. 

Will grinds his hips forward, helping out as Raihan pushes up, and soon they’re breathing hard into each other’s faces. Raihan leans up, kisses him. Bites down just a little bit as he gives a twist of his fingers, smiling inside to feel Will moan unexpectedly.

Raihan gets them off slow and expertly, until Will is moaning into his neck to let him come, please let him come. A tight fist and a few whispers of how good Will’s been for him, and they’re both done for. 

They lay there until things get sticky, Will getting up and returning with a few wet wipes. Raihan watches bemusedly as Will carefully cleans them both up, before leaning down and kissing Raihan slowly, telling him that he hopes to see him again.

Finding his unfinished water bottle, Raihan drains the last of it as he wanders around. Writhing bodies, sex noises, it’s all rather beautiful and primal, and he wishes not for the first time that night that he could have had his phone with him. For no other reason than to get a picture of Nanu at his feet. God, that was a blowjob for the ages. Raihan almost stops in his tracks for a moment. He wonders -

Flopping down next to Piers, Grimsely now tucked along his side and looking well-fucked, Raihan asks, “Kabu ever come to these?”

Piers barks laughter that smacks all the way against the far wall. “I think it’d give the stick up his ass a nice break, but no I’ve never seen him.” He gives Raihan a conspiratorial look. “You think he should come?”

Shrugging, Raihan traces a finger along Piers’ bare shoulder. “Seems to do Nanu good, and they remind me of each other.”

“Hmm. It’s a thought.”

Conversation dies out naturally, and Raihan is relaxing back, not really thinking about his still throbbing erection or what Piers and him have been talking about. He’s almost about to ask how much longer they’ll be when there’s a sudden weight on his lap.

“What, you gonna fuck an’ leave an’ not say hi?” The voice is rough and familiar, and despite himself Raihan can’t help but smiling as he opens his eyes.

“Are you seriously naked and still wearing those stupid goggles?”

Guzma grins down at him before pressing a hungry kiss to Raihan’s lips. “Hey, asshole.” 

Raihan lets himself melt into it. Guzma is...a known quantity. Occasionally a dick, always entertaining, brutal in battle and fantastic in bed after. They haven’t seen each other in a few years now, and Raihan traces over the corners of his grey eyes, finding more lines than had been there before. “You doing okay?”

Guzma nods before settling himself down. It’s all smooth tan skin and purple tattoos, sliding over Raihan until he’s straddling him easily. Raihan is hard, so very hard, but now he’s comfortable knowing it’s all for Guzma.

He slides a hand back, finds him swollen and wet. “Fucked already?” he murmurs.

“Oh, like I’m your first tonight. Come on,” Guzma says, swiveling his hips in a way that makes Raihan see stars. He gets up on his knees and Raihan slides in oh so easily. Guzma fucks down and Raihan shoves up, and it’s like the last five years didn’t happen.

Guzma kisses like he fights, all teeth and bravado, but that’s how Raihan likes it too. He shifts Guzma bit by bit around on his lap until he gets an involuntary grunt and knows that he’s hitting the spot. Raihan wraps a hand around him, jacks him off fast and nasty.

They come together, groaning into a kiss. Guzma spills all over Raihan’s chest, hot and sticky. They slow eventually, foreheads pressed together. Guzma swipes a thumb through the mess on Raihan’s chest, feeds it into Raihan’s mouth. It’s bitter, an acquired taste, much like Guzma himself. 

Raihan looks over to see Piers studying him with those even eyes of his. “Find an old friend?”

Trying not to flush, Raihan nods. “It’s...been a while.”

Grimsley is still nestled up to Piers, and Raihan nods over at him. “Looks like you’ve got a buddy.”

Piers rolls his eyes, but Raihan can see the smile behind it. “Ready to bounce?” 

Raihan nods. He pokes at Guzma until he gets up, then stops him a step a way. Pulls his cheeks apart and watches white drip slowly, slowly out of him. Guzma pulls away, gives a grin and a quick slap to Raihan’s face before sauntering off. Raihan finds a towel and wipes off his chest with a grin.

They weave their way through the bodies, until they end up back in the clothing room. Raihan is still hard, it takes some maneuvering to get him tucked away into his pants. Walking out, Piers gives a wave to the new person at the door.

Raihan blinks. “Tell me that wasn’t Milo.”

Shrugging, Piers says, “Okay, I won’t tell you.”

Feeling hot from the crowded room and the sex, Raihan rolls down the window as Piers drives them through the quiet Galarian streets. It’s late enough that even the hardcore partiers have stumbled home, early enough that workers haven’t started to fill the streets.

Piers pulls in to a spot in front of Raihan’s building. He knows where Raihan lives, but that’s it - he’s never been inside, nor has Raihan been to Piers’ place. They always have the comforting bulk of Leon between them, keeping their focus, keeping it from getting too serious.

There’s an itch under Raihan’s skin.

“You want a drink?”

“Sure.”

Raihan’s place is - a place. It’s somewhere to exist when he’s not battling or training or fucking. It was decorated by his agent, all shiny chrome this and leather that, something Chairman fucking Rose would probably nut over. 

There are a few touches of his personality - a corner of the living room he turned into a Pokémon nursery when he found a little battered Trapinch in a corner of the Dusty Bowl and nursed it back to health. Now that Trapinch is his beloved Flygon, and the soft corner full of blankets and toys has hosted quite a few more creatures over the years. 

Then there’s his bedroom. Raihan doesn’t bring other people there, if he fucks someone he either goes to their place or bends them over the couch or does them in his rather ridiculously large shower. His bedroom has pictures - not the selfies for his OnlyFans, but the ones he spends time, the ones he cares about taking. Pokémon and landscapes and the loneliness of empty stadiums. There are pictures and soft bedsheets and large open windows that let in the morning sun - nothing Raihan intends to share with anyone else.

Piers follows Raihan upstairs, looking around curiously. He takes off his boots at the door when Raihan toes off his shoes - they lean against the wall, the ghost of Piers’ legs still available in their shape. Piers is smaller without his shoes - half a foot shorter and silent as he pads around. Raihan gets a bottle of water from the fridge, Piers waving him off when offered another. 

Raihan watches, feels like Piers is slowly picking away layers of dead skin, leaving him sensitive and raw underneath.

Or maybe that’s just the drugs and horniness.

He keeps leaning against the marble countertop - horrifically expensive and imported from Alola - as Piers wanders around, keeping track of him by sound as much as anything. There’s a soft sound of surprise then quiet murmuring, followed by a soft screech. He must have found the Dreepy that Raihan found hurt the other day. She should end up fine, once she heals the fracture in one of her forelimbs.

Raihan listens to Piers walk quietly about, exploring the Raihan that people don’t get to see. He realizes that he hasn’t heard anything after a while, and despite the empty water bottle in his hand his mouth is dry. Raihan walks down his hallway, feeling like a stranger in his own house.

Piers is in Raihan’s bedroom, stretched out on his bed. Naked but for that damned silver collar of his, and a matching ring through the tip of his cock. The streetlights stream through the blinds, lighting up his moon-pale body with stripes of light and dark. Piers shifts slowly, hips moving this way and that, as he settles himself in, gets comfortable.

“I don’t let people in here,” Raihan says, the words dropping like stones into a still pond of silence.

Piers looks up at him, looks him up and down with those clear and yet so opaque blue-green eyes. “I’m not people,” he says easily, and Raihan knows what he means.

Raihan strips, not trying to be sexy at all. He climbs into bed, climbs over Piers until the other man is below him, looking up with heavy lidded eyes that are part seduction, part challenge. This is Raihan’s bed, though, and it’s been a long night, and perhaps he just isn’t into one more fight.

Something in Piers’ expression softens, and he reaches up a long fingered hand to stroke over Raihan’s cheekbones, curve along the line of his jaw. “Let me take care of you,” he says, and when Raihan nods it’s followed by a firm press of Piers’ lips. 

The kiss turns serious, more intense than either of them had anticipated. Piers keeps his mouth locked over Raihan’s as he pushes at him, turns him over so he’s laying on top. Piers kisses Raihan’s throat, teeth seemingly as sharp as Raihan’s own, as he nips his way across sensitive skin. Piers’ hips thrust slowly against Raihan’s own, both of them hard and leaking. Just as Raihan starts fuzzily thinking about yanking Piers down and rubbing off against him, Piers is gone. 

Raihan opens his eyes to see the long curve of Piers’ back as he roots through Raihan’s nightstand. He emerges triumphant with a half-full bottle of lube. Coming back to bed, he settles himself between Raihan’s legs, pushing them apart carefully.

They haven’t talked about this, not really. Piers knows Raihan’s never been fucked, never really had someone inside of him. They’ve toyed with the idea with the insulating Leon between them - a finger trailing along Raihan’s cleft, a thumb poking just inside, dry and feeling enormous. Two fingers that first time, that left Raihan feeling wrung out and empty afterwards.

Piers is gentle with him now, oddly enough. Fingers sliding smooth and deep, kisses that distract until Raihan’s gasping into Piers’ mouth. Quiet instructions,  _ breathe  _ and  _ relax  _ and _ bear down just a bit, just like that. _ Raihan is so hard he hurts, everything has been building for hours and he just - needs.

“Come on, I need you.” He’d be embarrassed at saying it just like that but he  _ wants _ too much right now.

Piers smooths Raihan’s hair back with one hand, tilts his face up for a kiss with the other, and is stretching Raihan open with the next breath. It hurts some, but it feels better to be filled. To feel new textures sliding against him in places that have never felt anything quite like this.

It’s silent, in the apartment, apart from the slick sound of skin on skin and the occasional gasp and quiet moan. Raihan wants Piers to be  _ in _ him as much as possible, wraps his legs around narrow hips to grind inwards as he threads hands into thick hair, keeps Piers locked in a deep kiss. 

It’s good, so good, until Piers pulls back a bit, tells him that it’s okay, just hang on. Hips thrust forward, Raihan’s breath is forced out of him. A hand wraps around his cock, twists expertly so that Raihan’s back snaps into an arch, a helpless groan drawn out from somewhere deep inside. It only takes a few more pulls for Raihan to come, white hot heat dragged from somewhere in his groin up through the length of his body. 

He’s shaking, overwhelmed. Raihan barely notices as Piers moves faster inside of him, bites Raihan’s shoulder as he comes with a rush of heat. PIers collapses down, breathing heavily into Raihan’s throat as he catches his breath. 

Raihan runs slightly shaking hands up and down Piers’ back, feeling the topography of bones and compact muscle. It takes long minutes for both of them to calm, for their skin to stop shivering like a horse’s in heat.

Eventually Piers sits up, leans down to give Raihan a sweet kiss. He pulls out and gets off the bed, and Raihan squirms at the unfamiliar feeling of come seeping out of him. He watches with half-open eyes as Piers wanders to the bathroom, returns with a damp washcloth to clean them both up. 

It’s something Raihan’s done from the other side dozens of times - now he knows what if feels like to have someone carefully clean themselves out of you. 

He’s glad it’s Piers.

Piers stands by the bed, seemingly uncertain for the first time that night. Raihan throws open the blankets with a yawn, squirming underneath himself. “It’s too late to leave, may as well stay.”

“I thought you said you didn’t let people in here,” Piers says dryly, already getting in bed. Raihan pulls him close, arranges him to his own liking. “Of course you’re a fuckin’ cuddler,” Piers grumbles, but he nestles back into the curve of Raihan’s body, not even protesting when Raihan tugs out the hairtie that keeps the mass of his hair tied up. Raihan buries his face in it, enjoying the smell of smoke and incense and some unrecognizable shampoo.

“Weirdo,” Piers says now, but it’s not without fondness. 

No, Raihan doesn’t let people in. But - perhaps he might start.


End file.
